


Tea with Whiskey

by Ashabadash



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Trans Character, Hurt/Comfort, I've been writing this fic for a year, Jacob doesn't use front doors, Jacob is sassy as ever, M/M, Ned only settles for the best, Roth is mentioned for a smidge, Some angst, a year I tell you!, but like...assassin's creed level violence, he's strictly a go-through-the-window kind of guy, little bit of violence in the middle there, the boys have trouble saying thank you a lot, they take care of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26301154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashabadash/pseuds/Ashabadash
Summary: Ned Wynert thought he had reached his limit of exasperation after moving his life and livelihood across the pond to London.Then Jacob Frye showed up on his doorstep one evening, drenched from the rain, covered in blood, with a swollen lip, grinning like an idiot and holding a small box full of precious gems, and Ned realized that, yes, he had a little more room left to be exasperated with one Jacob Frye.
Relationships: Jacob Frye/Ned Wynert
Comments: 16
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a short fluffy little thing and now it's this whole story with plot and stuff, oops! 
> 
> TW: Ned has some anxiety about his bindings and being outed in part two while he's arrested. Additionally, Ned gets attacked in part three and has to deal with his bindings while getting patched up. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Ned Wynert thought he had reached his limit of exasperation after moving his life and livelihood across the pond to London. He thought, with the new normal of being a “London-er”, starting his thieving business from the ground up, and dealing with the Blighters, there was only so much more madness he could handle. Then he met the Frye twins, who were as useful as they were exhausting, and Ned thought, that’s it, I have hit the limit. 

Then Jacob Frye showed up on his doorstep one evening, drenched from the rain, covered in blood, with a swollen lip, grinning like an idiot and holding a small box full of precious gems, and Ned realized that, yes, he had a  _ little _ more room left to be exasperated with one Jacob Frye. 

“You gonna let me in?” Jacob said, even as he stepped past Ned anyway and into the thief’s foyer. 

“You going to bleed all over my carpet?” Ned asked, closing the door and glaring at the taller man. 

“It’s not my blood,” Jacob answered, removing his overcoat and hanging it on the coat rack like he fucking lived there. “At least not most of it.” 

“That doesn’t make it better, Frye,” Ned pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you aware it’s three in the morning?” 

“Don’t be so cross, I brought you a present,” Jacob handed the box to him. Ned took it cautiously, keeping an eye on Jacob who just loitered in the hall, hands in his pockets. He opened the box and found that it was stuffed with jewels, coins, and other precious mementos that individually would be worth a lot and together would be worth a fortune. 

“What…” Ned started, not sure what to say. 

“Nicked it off the F train as it came through Whitechapel,” Jacob explained. “Where’s your kitchen?” 

“Down the hall,” Ned said absently, still looking through the box of goodies Jacob had brought. When he realized what Jacob had asked, he looked up sharply to tell him off, but the man was gone, and Ned followed muddy footsteps down the hall to his kitchen. “Frye!” 

“You can’t just barge into a man’s kitchen in the middle of the night,” Ned said, placing the box on the counter even as Jacob went about making himself what looked like a cup of tea. 

“I didn’t barge in, you let me in,” he grinned. “Tea?”

“No,” Ned said flatly. 

“Suit yourself,” Jacob shrugged and went back to the tea. Ned wasn’t sure what to do just then, so he leaned against the kitchen table and crossed his arms over his chest, pulling his robe around himself tighter. When Jacob finished with the tea, Ned watched as he poured a glug of what looked like whiskey from a flask in his pocket. He then took his mug to the table and sipped it, clearly expecting the next move to come from Ned. 

“What do you want, Frye,” Ned asked, wondering if he’d ever get himself back to sleep once Jacob left. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to a ‘thank you, Jacob. You’re the best. I could have never done this without you…’” Jacob smirked behind his cup of tea. Ned glared, but Jacob continued his grin. 

“You didn’t have to do it in the dead of the night,” Ned said, gesturing out the window. 

“Yes I did,” Jacob said. “Less visibility, the rain was an added bonus.” he put the half-empty mug on the counter. “Also less guards on the night shift. What idiot is going to board a moving train in the dead of the night?” 

“Well now I know of  _ one _ idiot,” Ned said shortly and Jacob barked a laugh. 

“Good one Neddie,” he clapped his hand on his back. “Well, I must get going. It’s late, you should be sleeping.” He stood straight and rolled his shoulders back. “I should be sleeping. You sure know how to keep a man up and away from his beauty sleep, Wynert.” 

“I’ll have you know, you woke me, Frye!” Ned picked up the mug, tea still there, and placed it in the wash basin. When he turned around, Jacob was nowhere to be seen, but his kitchen window was open and the curtain was billowing in the wind. “Frye!” he looked at the state of his kitchen and hall, the muddy footprints leading to and from the foyer. How Jacob had snuck away to get his coat, Ned would never know. “Frye!” he yelled again, knowing it was fruitless. “You muddied up my house you giant oaf,” he growled. But, deciding that he’d deal with it in the morning, Ned closed the window and locked it (a fat lot of good that would do) and went back to bed.

The next morning, Ned was woken again by two sheepish looking Rooks at his door, both holding mops. They didn’t say much besides a ‘Good morning Mr. Wynert,’ and made their way to clean up Jacob’s mess from the night before. 

Ned removed his glasses and rubbed his face. Yes, there was always a little room to be exasperated with Jacob Frye. 

**--**--** **--**--** **--**--** 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Ned's internal monologue consists of worrying about getting outed while he is arrested

Ned could scream right about now. 

He won’t, but he could. He won’t give the police the satisfaction. 

He couldn’t believe he got picked up by the police for his thieving. He’d have to look into the people who worked for him a little closer. Someone turned on him for a pretty penny, he was sure of it, but he wouldn’t let it happen twice. 

“Captain has been looking for you for some time Wynert,” the cop said as he shoved a handcuffed Ned into the back of the Police carriage. Ned scowled at the man as the doors slammed. Great...just great. How was he supposed to get himself out of this? 

The cops stood next to the carriage, awaiting orders, Ned presumed, so he went to work trying to jimmy open the cuffs. While doing so, there was a nagging notion in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite shake. 

What would happen when he got to Scotland Yard? What would happen if he got locked up? How long could he keep his secret before someone noticed? The thoughts made his breath quicken and his hands shake, both of which were not conducive to the complicated task of breaking open handcuffs. 

A soft thud hit the top of the carriage and Ned looked up curiously. What the hell was that? It didn’t sound like the police noticed, so Ned chalked it up to a figment of his imagination and went back to his fiddling. Two officers took the reins of Ned’s carriage and started off, heading in the direction of Scotland Yard. 

No time to panic now, he had to get out of this carriage. 

Suddenly, the carriage jolted to the left and Ned was thrown to the side. There was shouting and shooting, and the sounds of something...bodies?...hitting the ground by the carriage. 

“What the hell is going on out there?” Ned demanded, struggling to his seat as the carriage whirled away, jostling him about in the back. 

“A change of plans,” a familiar voice called out. “That’s what’s going on!” 

Ned scowled at the familiarity of that voice. How in the world… “Frye?!” He heard Jacob chuckle. “God damnit, where do you come off rescuing me!” 

“I believe it’s pronounced ‘thank you’ you ingrate,” Jacob responded, amusement in his voice. Ned scowled further. No, he wasn’t thanking the idiot for this rescue. 

“I operate on a strict policy of keeping people indebted to me,” Ned said firmly, still trying to get his handcuffs off. “Not the other way around. I hate having to owe favors!” 

“Well I could leave you here for the police to collect you,” Jacob offered, the carriage slowing down considerably. Ned huffed. No that certainly won’t work. Ned needed to get away from the cops, needed to lay low while this blew over, and needed to figure out what he could do in the case this happened again. 

Maybe there were some cops in the borough he could pay off to look the other way. The price would be high, but Ned’s peace of mind would be worth it. 

“No! It’s too late now, just get us out of here,” Ned said and Jacob chuckled again, ticking Ned off more. 

They drove along for another twenty minutes or so before Jacob eventually determined they were not being followed anymore. He pulled the carriage over and opened the back doors. Ned had officially given up on the handcuffs and was sitting there in resignation when the doors opened, revealing a smug Jacob. 

“So, what do you want Frye?” He asked with a sigh. 

“What makes you so sure I want something?” Jacob asked, mocking hurt. “Perhaps I saved you out of the kindness of my own heart.” Ned raised an eyebrow at him and laughed. Jacob rolled his eyes and helped Ned out of the carriage. “C’mon, let me tell you about the job.” 

“Fine,” Ned said. “But can you get me out of these first?” He held up the cuffs to Jacob. 

“What happened to ‘I operate on a strict policy of keeping people indebted to me,’” Jacob teased as he inspected the cuffs and walked them over closer to the back of Charing Cross station. Ned’s answer was his more sinister scowl, but it only resulted in making Jacob grin. “I can do it, sit down,” he pointed to a pile of crates and Ned sat on one while Jacob dug in his pockets, finally pulling out a small knife and a metal stick. “Aha!” 

“So the job?” Ned asked as Jacob settled in front of him. The larger man took his hands and turned them over the best he could without hurting Ned. 

“Essentially a train heist,” Jacob said. “But I need to get the package off the train unnoticed, and I can’t exactly pocket it like I do when I pick up treasures for you,” he stuck the lock with the metal stick and began fidgeting. 

“How big are we talking here?” Ned asked, painfully aware of his New York accent getting thicker as he talked business. 

“An internal combustion engine,” Jacob said. Ned’s face must have shown his surprise because Jacob huffed out a small laugh. “I see you’re intrigued.” 

“How are you going to get an internal combustion engine off of a train unnoticed?” Ned asked curiously. 

“Well I have a crew of Rooks that can lift it off,” Jacob said. “And it seems to me I know a man with a train that owes me a favor,” He looked up from his work and gave Ned’s scowling face a half-smile. “You keep scowling like that and your pretty-little face is going to get stuck that way,” Jacob said before turning back to the cuffs. “So, what do you say?” 

Ned thought for a moment. He did have access to a cargo train that could carry the load and keep pace with Milner’s train. It shouldn’t be that much work. The pay off would be good, and in terms of favors, Ned’s been asked to do much worse for far less. 

“You’ve got a deal,” Ned said. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.” 

“For you! You get to sit nice and cozy on your train. I have to steal an engine!” 

“Well it’s your plan!” Ned shot back. “Should’ve given yourself an easier job.” Jacob shook his head. When he was satisfied with the placement of the metal stick, he pulled out his small knife and pressed it into the lock as well. 

“I would advise you to be very still,” Jacob said. “I usually only do this on doors and crates.” Ned barely breathed as Jacob worked. His job would be significantly more difficult without the use of his right hand. 

They sat silently for a moment as Jacob worked. “I’m still waiting, by the way,” Jacob said, quietly, but in a sing-songy tone that made Ned’s teeth grind. 

“For what?” 

“A thank you,” Jacob said, not looking up. “Clearly you couldn’t get yourself out of there on your own. Without me, you’d be locked up in Scotland Yard by now.”   


“I would have gotten out eventually,” Ned said, though he wasn’t sure how. “How are you supposed to get cuffs like these off without a free hand to pick the lock?” He asked incredulously. 

“You break your thumb and slide your hand through,” Jacob said matter-of-factly. Ned gaped. 

“I’m not breaking my thumb!” he shouted. 

“It pops right back in!” Jacob said. 

“You’re familiar with that technique then?” Ned teased. 

“Had to do it once or twice,” Jacob said. He looked up at Ned. “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

“I’ll help you begin,” Jacob supplied, coughing a little and putting on a particularly terrible American accent. “ _ Jacob, my dear friend… _ ” 

“We’re not friends,” Ned glared.

“ _ My ever heroic rescuer _ ,” Jacob continued like he didn’t hear Ned. “ _ Thank you so much for retrieving me from those wretched bobbies and bringing me to safety AND for unlocking me from these handcuffs without breaking my thumbs because you knew I would bitch and moan like a petulant child. I am forever grateful… _ ” he smirked. 

“Ugh, fine!” Ned huffed. “Thank you, Frye.” Jacob grinned and then twisted the knife, and the locks on the handcuffs clicked open. 

“You’re very welcome Neddie,” Jacob tossed the handcuffs aside. “Now let’s go rob a train!” Ned rubbed the raw skin of his wrists, frowned, and then followed Jacob up to the station. 

**--**--** **--**--** **--**--**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This is the most violent chapter, as Ned gets beat up. Ned also has another heavily anxious internal monologue about getting outed, and he has a moment with Florence Nightingale while removing his bindings so he can get patched up.

After that, Jacob and Ned often saw more of each other than they had before. Occasionally, Jacob would show up on Ned’s front porch to personally deliver the more expensive contraband. Sometimes, he would skip the door all together and just swing through Ned’s open kitchen window. 

Ned would like to say it bothered him. He surely told Jacob that much. But honestly, he’d grown accustomed to the twin’s surprise visits. At least the giant oaf remembered to take his shoes off before tracking mud all through the house. As thanks, Ned kept a stocked first aid kit next to the wash basin and a decanter of whiskey in the cupboard. 

One late October evening, Ned was walking back home through Lambeth when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. Ned didn’t slow his pace, but he kept an ear out. Sounded like there were three of them, one bigger guy and two lighter ones. Had they been Rooks, they would have addressed him, said hello. Jacob and Evie had trained them to look out for all of their associates. Drunks from the bar wouldn’t have been this quiet. 

Damn Blighters. 

Ned was another 20 minutes from home. He wouldn’t make it at a run. He looked around, but there were no friendly growler drivers. No busses. No cops. It was too late at night for any of them to be out. Damn to hell, Ned knew he shouldn’t have stayed so late. 

He turned a corner into a park. The park would be darker and more dangerous, but it shaved a few minutes off his walk. The second he was around the corner, before the Blighters following him saw, Ned broke into a run. He may not be able to make it home, but maybe he could lose them, hide out in a tree or something until they were gone. It was his only bet. 

He made it three blocks before something heavy hit him square in the back and he toppled to the ground. 

“Thought you could lose us did’ya?” the big guy said, rolling Ned over and pressing his boot into Ned’s chest. Ned was already struggling to breathe from running, the boot wasn’t helping. 

“Let me go you pinheaded fool,” Ned struggled, but to no avail. 

“Well that wasn’t very nice, was it?” One of the skinnier guys leaned over him to glare at Ned. the Blighter had a scar across his left eye. “And here I was thinking Americans were such gentlemen.” Ned replied by spitting on him. The third Blighter retaliated by kicking him in the ribs and Ned yelped in pain. “You’ll pay for that!” The two kept kicking Ned while the big guy kept him pinned down, all of them laughing as Ned screamed for help. When it finally stopped, Ned wondered if it would just be better to die there, or could he crawl home and die in the comfort of his bed. 

Someone had ripped at his blazer, presumably checking pockets for money. Ned started to panic. “No…” he said weakly, but his face was so swollen he could barely speak. 

“Well well well,” someone said. “What are you hiding Mr. Wynert?” fat fingers pulled at the edge of his bandages. 

“Think he’s hiding the good stuff under there?” 

“I think he’s hiding something…” Ned did not like the tone of his voice. He tried to struggle, tried to scream, but his body wasn’t having it. He braced himself for one of the Blighters to pull the bandage, but it never came. 

Instead, Ned heard a thump and then a whoosh, like something was flying through the air. One Blighter yelled “Get ‘im!” and the three scattered away from Ned. There was shouting and the sounds of fists flying and making contact with skin and muscle. Ned tried to sit up, maybe he could get away while everyone was distracted. But there was no hope, he couldn’t breathe without experiencing sharp pain. 

A loud thud told Ned the big guy went down. A splash of something warm splattered Ned’s face. Blood? Ned didn’t know. All he knew was that moments later, things were quiet, and then there was a large but gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Ned?” the voice asked. 

“Frye?” Ned asked, voice barely there. He heard Jacob swear and then felt delicate fingers go over his body, checking for injuries. He flinched when the fingers went to the bandages on his ribs and Jacob pulled back. There was the sound of two long whistles and then Jacob moved back to Ned. The sound of a carriage came near. 

“I’m going to get you out of here…” Jacob said. “But I need to lift you up. It’s probably going to hurt.” 

“Jus’ do it,” Ned grimaced. Jacob carefully scopped Ned in his arms. It took the smaller man everything he had not to scream in pain. Things were definitely broken. Jacob carried him to the carriage and climbed inside with him. 

“Stay awake,” he said sternly and then murmured something to someone else, probably the Rook that drove the carriage over. The carriage started and Jacob adjusted them so that Ned sat in his lap, head lolled on Jacob’s shoulder. “Stay awake, you’re alright.” Jacob’s hands went through Ned’s hair and it occurred to him that his hat and glasses were gone. 

He tried to cover himself, but his shirt was shredded. Jacob must have noticed because he shucked off his outer coat and wrapped Ned in it. Jacob muttered nonsense to Ned, trying to keep him awake as the carriage carefully sped through town toward Ned’s place. All the while, Jacob’s fingers remained in his hair, gently running his fingers through it. Ned thought it would be rather plesant, if he wasn’t passing out from the pain. 

“Frye I’m…” Ned started. Things were getting fuzzy. It was harder to stay awake, the pain was becoming too much. 

“We’re almost there, Neddie,” Jacob said, Ned could hear the panic in his voice. “Come on, talk to me, tell me something.” 

“Tell you what?” Ned asked. He could hear his words slurring. 

“Anything?” 

“I really don’t want to die before finishing my book,” Ned said, embarrassed at how honest and how lame that was all at the same time. Jacob chuckled. 

“What are you reading?” he asked, even as the carriage pulled over. Jacob muttered something to their driver and then turned back to Ned. 

“Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” Ned winced. “Almost done with it.” Jacob hummed and scooped him close, carefully getting out of the carriage and carrying Ned inside. The Rook must have picked the lock on the front door. Jacob carried him to the kitchen and laid Ned on the table. Then Jacob hesitated. “What?” 

“I don’t know where to start…” Jacob said honestly. Then he hummed and went to the wash basin, wetting a rag and bringing it back to Ned. The water was cool on his face as Jacob wiped away grime and blood. Ned shivered. “Tell me more about that book.”

“What?” 

“Hollow sleeps or whatever…” Jacob said. 

“Sleepy Hollow,” Ned corrected him. “It’s by an American author. Do you know how hard it is to find books by American authors out here?” Jacob chuckled. 

“Tell me about it,” he said as the cloth moved to Ned’s neck. And so Ned did. He mumbled and slurred, but he talked to Jacob about the book he was reading, what he read before that, how he had a guy in Westminster who collected books by American authors and traded them with Ned in exchange for abstract paintings from Paris. 

“I’m more of a Dickens’ fan myself,” Jacob said carefully, his fingers pressing gently on a bruise under Ned’s eye. 

“Who the hell taught you to read?” Ned asked, slightly surprised that Jacob had any interest. 

“Evie,” Jacob said. “Bless her patience.” 

“Who taught her?” Ned asked, trying to open one eye. The light in the room stung and everything was blurry. He shut his eye again. 

“My father,” Jacob said, voice a little bitter. “He was… less patient.” The cloth moved to the top of Ned’s chest, above the bandages, and Ned froze in a panic. Jacob felt him tense and froze as well. “You’re bleeding,” Jacob said, hand pressing gently on Ned’s ribs. 

“Please don’t…” Ned started, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Just then, there was a knock at the door. 

“Stay there,” Jacob said. Ned tried to think up a come-back, but Jacob was already gone. Ned couldn’t hear where he went or who he was talking to, but moments later Jacob returned with someone beside him. 

“Mr. Wynert,” a woman’s voice was above them. “My name is Florence Nightingale, I’m a friend of the Frye twins and I’m here to help.” 

“Of course you’re friends with the Lady with the Lamp,” Ned said, feeling exasperated. “Next you’ll tell me you know Karl Marx or something…” Jacob just chuckled. Ms. Nightingale did a once-over and then hummed knowingly. 

“Mr. Frye, you’ll need to warm up some water for Mr. Wynert to soak in, it will help with the pain,” she turned to him with her bag. “Take these,” she handed him a few vials. “Three spoonsful each, it’ll bring out the bruising so we can see what we’re working with.”

“There’s a pot to heat water in the sitting room,” Ned helped. “Over the fireplace.” 

“Well someone lives the high and mighty life,” Jacob teased. 

“I only settle…” Ned coughed. “Settle for the best,” he teased back. Ms. Nightingale shooed Jacob out of the kitchen. She fussed with some treatments in her bag for a moment and then turned back to Ned. 

“Mr. Wynert, I’m afraid we need to remove this,” she said, not unkindly. Ned tensed again. He knew it was necessary, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The nurse above him leaned in close and placed a cool hand on his cheek. “It’s alright dear, your secret is safe with me.” Ned almost sobbed then. He’d been holding it together so well. Ms. Nightingale tutted quietly and then slowly cut the bandage away from Ned’s body. He felt the chill in the kitchen and instinctively curled in on himself, but the nurse held him steady. 

“You’ll need stitches,” she warned, fingers tracing over a gash on his right side. “And two of your ribs are certainly broken, you’ll need to be careful when wrapping yourself up again.” She used the wet cloth Jacob had left behind and wiped Ned’s torso down, careful around his chest. “It looks like your collarbone is bruised as well, I’ll know more after you soak. How’s your head?” 

“Throbbing, but I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out anymore,” Ned said. “Still can’t really open my eyes though…” 

“Only a minor concussion then,” she mused. “I imagine you covered your head when the beating began?” Ned nodded. “Good man.” 

Something about being called a ‘good man’ by Ms, Nightingale, even as she looked down at Ned’s bare and betraying body, choked Ned up, and he started to shake a little. “Oh not yet, Mr, Wynert,” she said. “Wait for the stitches first.” Ned’s laugh was more of a sob, but he stilled himself. 

The stitches took a few moments, and each of them was relatively quiet, save for when the nurse would rouse Ned awake if he nodded off. When she was done, she wrapped Ned up in Jacob’s coat (Ned forgot he was still wearing it) and eased him to a sitting up position. Ned gripped her arm as he felt like he was spinning, but the movement subsided. 

“You’ll need to stay awake most of the night,” she said. “No dozing off, can you do that?” 

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Jacob’s voice startled both of them. Sneaky bastard. “Bath’s ready.” 

“Thank you,” Ned said, pulling the coat closer to his body. 

“Mr. Frye, can you help us to the bathroom please?” Jacob agreed and he took to Ned’s other side, easing him off the table. The three slowly moved down the hall. Ned was grateful to realize that his legs, though sore and certainly bruised, worked just fine. They stopped twice when Ned felt sick, but the feeling subsided, and finally, they made it to the bathroom. 

The small room was lined with porcelain tile and the bath was a luxury item Ned had insisted upon when he purchased the place. They sat him on the edge and Ned held tight to the coat. 

“I think I can manage this part,” he said slowly, squinting one eye open and looking at Ms. Nightingale. Thankfully, the nurse nodded. 

“Mr. Frye and I will be out in the sitting room,” she said, gesturing for Jacob to follow. Jacob wasn’t so convinced. 

“Go Frye, I’m alright,” Ned said pointedly. 

“You’ll shout if you need anything?” Jacob said. Ned nodded and that seemed to ease Jacob enough to leave him be. Once they were gone, Ned breathed out slowly and removed Jacob’s jacket. Again, there was blood on it, not just Ned’s, but his attackers’ as well. Ned dropped it to the floor, he’d pay to have it cleaned, onr get Jacob a new one. This one was so shapeless on the larger man. Ned could certainly find better.

Ned cautiously slipped himself into the tub and involuntarily let out a moan. The warm water eased his pain immediately, but it also let Ned realize just how much pain he was actually in. He soaked for a while, but his mind started to wander off to what happened earlier that evening. What would have happened if Jacob hadn’t been there? What would have happened had those thugs figured out who...what...Ned really was? 

The events of the last few hours finally got to Ned. Thinking he was going to die on the street in Lambeth of all places. The thugs jumping him. Their gross hands tearing at his clothes. The sound of Jacob arriving, fighting them off, killing them to protect him. How gentle and concerned Jacob was, the relief in his voice when Ned revealed to be alive. Jacob keeping him awake in the carriage. Nurse Nightingale’s kindness…

The lump in Ned’s throat grew and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He let out a sob that echoed throughout the room, but he couldn’t care anymore, the dam finally broke, and the tears flowed down his swollen face. 

He cried for a good twenty minutes. By the time he was done, the bath had gone cold and his body ached less. The bruises on his torso, arms, and legs had come through, and Ned looked like a purple spotted dog. Those thugs really did a number on him. 

Ned was glad they were dead. 

He dried off with a towel from the linen closet and then grabbed a pair of sleep clothes from there, a black silk button up night-shirt and matching pants. He eased himself into the pants and then reached for a clean bandage from the closet. Sighing, he gingerly wrapped his body, careful around his stitches and the broken ribs, as Ms. Nightingale instructed him to be. Once he was dressed, he put his hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and stepped out. 

He found Jacob alone in the sitting room, a book on his lap, though the glazed look in his eyes told him that Jacob wasn’t really reading. When Ned arrived, Jacob jumped up. 

“Florence went home for the evening, but said if there was any concern to come and get her,” Jacob said, scratching the back of his head. “Otherwise she’ll come around in the morning and check on you…” he looked around uncomfortably before looking back to Ned. “I sort of volunteered myself to stay up with you tonight and realized I didn’t ask if that was okay…” 

“It’s fine,” Ned said, feeling exhausted. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be alone anyway. “Won’t your sister be looking for you though?” 

“I sent word I had business to attend to,” Jacob said, gesturing outside. “She’ll be okay.” Ned nodded. For a moment, the two stood awkwardly, neither saying anything, nor looking at each other. Finally, it was Ned that made the next move. 

“What were you doing in Lambeth?” he asked, moving to sit on his couch, curing his feet under himself. 

“Hunting a ghost,” Jacob said seriously. Ned gave him a look. “I swear it. I was just wrapping up what I found and was heading back to Whitechapel when I heard those thugs attacking someone. When I got closer and realized it was you calling out…” Jacob didn’t know what to say next, his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you,” Ned said honestly. 

“I know you don’t like owing people, or being rescued…” 

“I like dying in the street even less,” Ned said. Jacob breathed out in relief and then sat down on the couch beside Ned. 

“Good. I like you a lot better alive and breathing,” Jacob admitted. Ned smirked, which hurt his swollen cheek. 

“Do you now?” he teased, and maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was Ned’s concussion, but Ned was sure Jacob blushed. 

“I was reading your book,” Jacob changed the subject. “Figured we could take turns reading chapters, keeping ourselves awake.” He picked the book up off the ground. “If you don’t mind starting at the beginning…” Ned looked at Jacob and Jacob looked at Ned and there was a sort of private conversation happening in their eyes before Ned took the book from him and opened up to the first pages. 

“I vaguely remember someone complaining about not getting his beauty sleep,” Ned said, settling into the couch. Jacob took the quilt off the back and draped it over Ned to keep him warm. 

“You do have that effect on me,” Jacob said with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep the day off tomorrow and I’ll never look prettier.” Ned was sure there was a comeback there, but he was too tired and sore to put things together. Instead, he peered down at the book, and began to read. 

The next morning, Florence Nightingale came to the house and the Rook standing guard let her inside. She found Jacob and Ned on the sofa in the sitting room fast asleep. “Honestly…” she whispered to herself, as she went over and checked on Ned. Though asleep, it seemed that the major signs of his head wounds had subsided and his face was less swollen. She had half a mind to wake them both, but the young men were curled up on each other comfortably and she had no desire to disturb them. Instead, she left a note on the table, telling them to come by her home once they woke, and quietly excused herself. 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I set out to write this story, this was the main fic, and the other chapters just *flourishes hands* happened, I guess...
> 
> I love Kudos and comments, so I hope you love giving them <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Ned to take care of Jacob, methinks

It had been nearly a year since Ned introduced himself to the Frye Twins, and never in any of that time had he seen Jacob Frye so...erratic. Unstable. 

...wild. 

The man had been pacing in his office before Ned even got there and was clearly not open to conversation just yet when Ned asked what the hell he was doing there. (The question of how he got in was quickly done away with after the countless times Jacob had broken into his home and office.) Jacob paced, muttering to himself, anger and frustration clear on his face. Finally he slumped down into the small sofa against Ned’s wall. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ned asked, arms crossed over his chest. Jacob looked up at him as if he hadn’t realized Ned was there until just now. 

“I’m working with a mad-man,” Jacob said flatly. Ned snorted. 

“I really wouldn’t classify your sister as a ‘mad-man’,” Ned said, amused. “But if you ever call her that to her face, can I be there?” 

“No not Evie,” Jacob shook his head and ran his hands down his face. “Though I’m certainly not looking forward to her I-told-you-so speech…” He looked over at Ned again and Ned could see worry lines making their way between Jacob’s eyebrows. “Maxwell Roth.” 

Ned sputtered. “The leader of the Blighters?” Ned asked, shocked. “How...how is that a good idea?” he asked. “You are the leader of the rival gang. One that has been taking control away from the Blighters for months, might I add…” he stood up from his desk and walked over to Jacob. “Why would you work with him?” 

“Because I’m an idiot,” Jacob said matter-of-factly. Ned took a breath. 

“You’re not an idiot,” Ned shook his head. “An impulsive oaf, maybe, but not an idiot.” He sat next to him on the sofa. “What happened?” 

“We blew up one of Starrick’s workshops,” he explained. “But I was careless and…” he sighed in frustration. “I wasn’t through, before rigging the place to blow. There were a dozen or so children inside when the explosion went off.” He bowed his head. 

“You got them out though,” Ned said. Jacob didn’t say as much, but he’d be much more torn apart about it if even a single child died because of him. Jacob nodded to confirm. Then he shot up to his feet again and started pacing once again. “So what are you going to do about it?” 

“What?” Jacob stopped mid-pace. 

“What are you going to do about it?” Ned asked slowly. “Or has the mad and chaotic Maxwell Roth really outmatched the Unstoppable Jacob Frye?” he stood up and crossed his arms again. Jacob brow furrowed for a moment and he looked out the window, his eyes unfocused for a moment. Then, like an idea physically struck him, Jacob started and then turned back to Ned grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. 

“Thank you Neddie,” Jacob said earnestly, pressing a quick and sudden kiss to his cheek before rushing out the door. Ned stood there for a minute, shocked and confused, his hand covering his cheek. Then he shook his head, sighed deeply, and finally got to work. 

**--**--** **--**--** **--**--** 

Ned saw Jacob again later that evening. The thief took a cab home from his office, (he had been doing so ever since the attack). There was a cluster of traffic halfway home, and Ned looked out the window to see that there was a bright fire burning somewhere in the center of town. “Poor saps,” Ned said before settling back in his seat. It wasn’t one of his warehouses, those were all along the water, but he could imagine the devastation that would follow a fire like that. 

The cab made its way through the mess of people and finally got Ned home. He paid the driver and stepped out, surprised to find Jacob Frye sitting on his front stoop, head resting against the front door. “Twice in one day, you must really miss me?” Ned said, but Jacob didn’t respond, didn’t even move. Ned walked up to him and the smell of smoke and soot startled his senses. Jacob must have been near that fire. 

...actually, knowing Jacob, he was the  _ cause _ of the fire…

“Oy, Frye,” Ned nudged him with his boot a little, and then a little harder when the twin still didn’t respond. Ned crouched down to eye level and shook him. “Jacob?!” Finally, Jacob opened his eyes, his gaze fuzzy and unfocused, and he started coughing violently. “Christ man, how much smoke did you breathe in?” Ned helped Jacob to his feet and ushered him inside, helping him down to his regular seat at the kitchen table. 

“Drink this,” Ned put a glass of water in front of him. Jacob didn’t reach out for the glass, and Ned groaned in annoyance and held the glass up to him until he sipped it, coughing more. Ned placed his hand on Jacob’s back, steadying him. “I’m getting you a doctor…” he moved to run to the front door, find one of his men he set up as security, or maybe one of Jacob’s Rooks. 

Jacob reached out and grabbed Ned’s arm. “I’m okay…” he insisted. He coughed some more, but it started to subside. Ned stared down the taller man. “I’m okay...Neddie, I promise.” Ned slowly walked back to Jacob and sat in the chair next to him. Jacob’s grip on his arm loosened, but he didn’t let go. 

“Tell me what happened,” Ned said. “All of it, from the second you left my office.” Jacob sighed for a moment and Ned thought he was just going to stay quiet. But then, like opening a dam, Jacob told him everything. 

How he knew that things were only going to escalate with Roth after what he did with the kids at the warehouse. That Jacob realized that if he didn’t stop him, no one would. That he had hoped he could get to Roth before others got hurt, but it was a trap the second he got through the doors at the Alhambra. 

Ned had a feeling Jacob was leaving parts out, but the Assassin had gone quiet again. At least he had finished coughing for now. 

“You need to wash up,” Ned said, matter-of-factly. “You’re covered in soot and blood.” Jacob looked down at himself as if he hadn’t known this until Ned said something. Ned nudged him until he was standing again and guided him to the washroom. Jacob sat on a stool next to the wash basin and Ned pulled a washcloth out of the small cabinet and got it wet. As he did so he looked over to Jacob. “Are you bleeding or is that someone else’s?” Ned asked. Jacob gave himself a once over with his hands, checking vital limbs and body parts and then patting down his face. 

“I think it’s Roth’s,” Jacob said, wiping at his face. Ned nodded, grateful for the response and not just the stunned silence from before. 

Ned nodded and wrung out the cloth. “Take your shirt off, Frye,” he said, coming back to him. Jacob gave him a look. 

“You just want to see me naked, don’t you Wynert?” he asked, unlacing his top. Ned smirked. Good, he’s coming back to himself. 

“You’ve foiled my evil plan,” Ned laughed quietly. He took the shirt and Jacob’s overcoat in exchange for the damp cloth and laid them out over the tub. He’d have them cleaned and stop smelling of smoke before giving them back. He turned back to Jacob who was half-heartedly wiping the soot from his arms and face. Ned rolled his eyes and walked back over to him, taking the cloth and wiping at a bloodstain on his neck. 

“What happened?” Ned asked after a moment. Jacob just shrugged. “This is hardly the first person you’ve killed,” Ned explained. “So something’s happened.” 

“I keep…” Jacob said, shaking his head. Ned stopped wiping at his skin and let Jacob get his thoughts in order. “I keep trusting the wrong people.” Ned made eye contact and then nodded slowly. He knew what that feeling was like. “I keep making careless mistakes, and then innocent people get killed.” His frown deepened. “Or I end up burning down entire parts of town, or I compromise the financial state of all of England…” 

“You what?” Ned stepped back, surprised. 

“Evie fixed it,” Jacob waved his reaction off. Then he groaned loudly. “It’s not like I want Evie to fix all of my mistakes,” he explained, more to himself than to Ned. Ned just nodded and went back to getting all of the blood and soot off Jacob’s face. “I’m going to get an earful from her tonight,” he grumbled. “And a quote from Father I’m sure.” 

“You did the best you could,” Ned said. 

“Did I?” Jacob asked. He looked at Ned, eyes narrow. 

“Did you?” Ned asked back, meeting his glare. Jacob held it for a moment before looking away. 

“Evie wouldn’t have gone to meet with Roth in the first place,” Jacob said, shrugging. 

“And then she wouldn’t have gained any information about the Blighters that you gained,” Ned said. “Nor would she have learned anything about Roth’s relations to Starrick.” Ned rinsed out the cloth and got back to work. 

“She wouldn’t have let him blow up that workshop,” he said. “Or burn down the theatre.” 

“Roth was probably going to do that anyway,” Ned shrugged. “And fortunately, you were there to make sure people didn’t get hurt.” 

“She wouldn’t have let him kiss her.” Jacob’s voice was low and the statement caught Ned off guard. He stopped what he was doing with the cloth and tried to catch Jacob’s eye, but the taller man looked away. 

“He what?” Ned asked, his blood boiling. Jacob huffed in frustration and looked up then. 

“Yeah...after I stabbed him,” Jacob said dryly. He subconsciously wiped at his mouth. Ned frowned and put the cloth down, figuring Jacob was as clean as he was going to get. Jacob gave him a soft smile. 

“Thanks Neddie,” Jacob said. “I can probably clean up the rest.” Ned nodded. 

“I’m going to make tea,” Ned said, filling the quiet space. 

“Would love a cup, thanks,” Jacob said quickly. “I take mine with...” 

“Whiskey, I know.” Ned took a step out of Jacob’s personal space and turned on his heels, walking out of the washroom and back to the kitchen to put a kettle on. 

He drummed his fingers on the counter, frustrated and annoyed. He realized, in a rare turn of events, that he wasn’t upset with Jacob. He was upset with Maxwell Roth. He was furious, actually, for whatever Roth did to push his friend to the breaking point. He toyed with the man’s head and emotions, wormed his way into being trusted… and then he had to go and kiss him, and that really got Ned going. 

“...Ned,” Jacob appeared at the door, leaning against the doorframe, a towel draped around his still-bare shoulders. His hair was damp and his face was clear of soot. He must have said something before because he was looking at Ned expectantly. 

“What?” he asked, confused. 

“The kettle?” Jacob smirked, jerking his head to the whistling kettle. Ned jumped and removed the pot from the fire. Jacob moved around him with swift ease and grabbed the whiskey off it’s spot on the counter and the mugs from the cupboard. 

With the tea made, the thief and the assassin sat at the table and quietly sipped from their drinks. After a moment, Jacob put down his drink and looked at Ned. 

“Thanks for this,” he said honestly. “Getting to the train in my state wasn’t going to work out…” 

“Any time,” Ned said reflectively. Jacob snorted. 

“Any time? Really?” he grinned. Ned rolled his eyes. 

“At this rate, Frye, I’m more surprised when you’re not already in my house when I get home from work.” Something about what Ned said made Jacob grin more and Ned was sure Jacob also blushed. Jacob finished his mug of tea and then put it by the sink. 

“Time to face the music,” he said. “Evie will have heard about the fire by now, no point in keeping her waiting.” He stood up and looked down, realizing his shirt and coat were still in the washroom. 

“I have another one of your shirts,” Ned said, hurrying to the closest to grab the one he left behind one of the first times Jacob came flying through his kitchen window. 

“You just kept it?” Jacob asked as he threw it over his head. 

“I had it cleaned,” Ned clarified. “You bleed on all of your clothes and then leave them strewn all over my floor…” Jacob smirked. “Don’t.” 

“There’s definitely a quip about me leaving my clothes all over your floor, Neddie,” Jacob chuckled. He tucked his shirt into his pants and then placed his flat cap back on his head. 

“You did the right thing today,” Ned finally said, making Jacob give him a second look, his brow furrowed. “Stopping Roth. I know it wasn’t easy, and yeah, you probably could have done it with less fire…” Ned sighed. “But it was right to stop him.” 

“Thanks, Ned,” Jacob said, giving him that small smile again. Jacob moved awkwardly for a moment, and then put his hands on Ned’s shoulders. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“See you soon,” Ned nodded, and he watched as Jacob climbed out the kitchen window. “You can use the door!” Ned shouted when Jacob was almost out. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jacob asked with a wink, and then he was gone. 

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	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! I think my boys deserve some fluff, don't you?

Evie beat him on their race to the train by only a couple of steps, but Jacob laughed as he leapt onto the speeding train and entered into the last car, best known as Evie’s room. 

“I’m afraid we lost Greenie,” he said cheerfully as he dropped onto the bed unceremoniously. Evie looked out the back door and nodded, Henry was nowhere in sight. 

“He’ll learn to keep up with us soon enough,” she said happily, walking past Jacob to her desk where the book of pressed flowers was laid open. Jacob watched her for a moment, scrutinizing her. 

“He’s not a bad guy, that Henry fellow,” Jacob said, standing up again, arms crossed over his chest. Evie just shook her head. “I mean, it’d be pretty hard to find another man who would risk his life against a Templar Grand Master in order to save your life. And now he’s a knight! Father would have been so proud...” 

“Quit it Jacob,” she warned. 

“I’m saying I’m happy for you,” Jacob clarified. Evie hadn’t expected that, and she looked up, surprised to see the genuine look on Jacob’s face. “He clearly loves you.” Evie blushed and Jacob at least took a little pity and didn’t tease. “And you love him back?” 

Evie nodded. “And I love him back.” 

“Simple as that?” 

“I wouldn’t call it simple,” Evie said. “But...easier, than I expected it to be.” Jacob nodded, contemplating that for a moment. Then, like a light clicked on in his head, Jacob realized there was somewhere he needed to be. 

“I have to go,” he said suddenly. He looked out the window to see they were at Waterloo station. Perfect. Evie raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll explain later,” Jacob promised, hopping over to his train car and switching out the bloodied overcoat (hell, had he really met the Queen in his thing?) for his nicer leather one. 

“Jacob!” Evie tried to stop him. Jacob rushed over and kissed her cheek quickly. 

“Enjoy an evening with Greenie,” he said. “I’ll find you in the morning!” and with that he leapt from the train onto the station platform, rushing out. 

While running down the stairs, he passed Henry, who was coming up and carrying a handful of red tulips in his hand. “Don’t miss your train, Greenie!” he laughed, and then he was gone. 

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Ned’s book was more dull than he had expected, and that, combined with the warmth in the sitting room from the afternoon sun, and he kept nodding off in his chair, the book slipping from his hands twice. 

He was just about to nod off again when a crash in his kitchen startled him. “Frye?” Ned called out, concerned. 

“Ned where are you?” Jacob called out, but Ned already heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hall. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Ned asked, putting the book aside and meeting Jacob at the doorway to the sitting room. Jacob seemed both ecstatic and nervous and a little frazzled as they nearly ran into each other. Before Ned could ask the man what was wrong, though, Jacob wrapped his arms around the smaller man and lifted him up in the air, spinning him around excitedly. “Frye, what the hell?” 

“We won!” Jacob celebrated, squeezing Ned tight. “Starrick is gone, done for, finished!” He placed Ned back on the ground. Ned adjusted his glasses that went askew. “We did it Neddie!” and before Ned could give Jacob his congratulations, Jacob put his hands on Ned’s face and pulled him in close, kissing him deeply. 

Ned froze in shock for a moment. Was this really happening? Did Jacob know he was kissing Ned? Wow he’s good at this…

Jacob was about to pull away when Ned’s brain kicked back into gear and Ned stepped even closer, pulling Jacob back in. The taller man’s shoulders relaxed then, the tension gone now that Ned was kissing him back. Jacob’s hand went to Ned’s waist, directing him to back up into the closest wall, where Jacob held him in place, deepening the kiss until neither of them could breathe. 

When they pulled away, Jacob pressed his forehead to Ned’s, eyes closed. Ned smiled and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Took you long enough,” he teased. Jacob chuckled low. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’ll do better next time.” 

“I have no doubt,” Ned said, kissing Jacob again. Jacob surely didn’t complain. 

“Not that I’m bothered by it…” Ned said, later on in the evening when he lied on top of Jacob from their spot on the sofa, clothes wrinkled, hair a mess. “But what brought this all on?” 

“I’ve had a very busy couple of days,” Jacob said. “I had to steal a carriage, sneak into a ball, defeat a Grand Master,” he ticked the list off on his fingers. “Nearly died, got knighted… somewhere in all of that I realized that I wanted to share that with you.” He smiled as Ned half-heartedly rolled his eyes. 

“Such a sap,” Ned said. 

“I think you mean romantic,” Jacob teased. 

“Same thing…” Ned’s brow furrowed. “Wait, did you say you got knighted?” 

“Obviously,” Jacob said, revealing nothing in his facial expressions. “Why, what did you do today?” 

“Shut up,” Ned groaned, shoving at his shoulder. Jacob caught his hand though and kissed his palm before pulling him up for another deep kiss. “You can’t just silence me with kissing, Frye.” 

“You sure?” Jacob asked, kissing him again. Ned rolled his eyes but then wrapped his hand behind Jacob’s head and pulled him closer. 

Yes, Ned Wynert still had a smidge more room to be exasperated with Jacob Frye. 

_ END. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more Jacob/Ned goodness, click the kudos and leave me a comment to let me know! 
> 
> Thanks for joining all! -Ace


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